


Let the fear you have fall away.

by Caledon_reyes



Category: Suits (US TV)
Genre: Don't Examine This Too Closely, Don't sue me, Dubious Consent, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, May or may not break your heart, The UN charter had really messed with my brain, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, if it does
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 21:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20627903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caledon_reyes/pseuds/Caledon_reyes
Summary: "People don't belong to each other, Harvey." He said softly, "but if they did, I would belong to you and you to me."| • • • • |"You are bewitching. Haven't you seen?" He smiled as Mike raised brow at the word. "The stars, dove, they sing to me all time I see you."____________Year: 1872Michael Ross has never been out of New England, he had been safely sheltered so by his sword brother, Trevor Evans. He is the epitome of what they call a Yankee in the west and down south. A ruthless flip of coin causes fate to leave him stranded in Iowa to the mercies of a certain outlaw, famed for leaving chaos in his wake.Harvey Specter is the outlaw. And he's got his eye on Mike.





	1. Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Travis_Crux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Travis_Crux/gifts).

> For you there's only love.

1872,

Sometimes Mike Ross prayed for patience, the other times he prayed for a gun. 

But he believed that solutions could be reached across easier with tact and compromise. Diplomacy owned him that way and it wasn't too kind to do so. And while this has helped him in many ways possible, it was still tempting to knock a man down with a .45 and in all due honesty Mike wouldn't feel guilty if he deserved it and if he knew how to work his way around a gun.

Okay maybe a little guilty.

Or a lot more guilty.

He hadn't fought in Civil war because it didn't cater to his beliefs. The war wasn't close to the idea of abolishing slavery as it should've been it been then Mike would've rose in arm. But it wasn't. Neither was it merely about state's rights. It was a convoluted mess, one that Mike refuse to indulge in to figure out compartmentalized factors. Not worth his time if you asked him

Mike had always thought whatever be the cause, he was born as a Northerner, he would die as a Northerner. That being said, it may or may not be the reason why a bullet could be through him right then and there.

He was breathing hard, sweating profusely and it wasn't because of the heat. The train had stopped and not out of technical difficulties, Mike would've rather that been the situation. But this was the southern part of Iowa. Technical difficulties were never the cases that stopped trains, armed outlaws did.

"This is going to end in disaster." The man next to him uttered.

"That's very optimistic of you." Mike returned because it honestly was. 

He wasn't supposed to be out here dammit. But he was. Mike had been sent as a companion of sorts to a Pinkerton detective whose job was to track down some godforsaken outlaw gang. Said detective was undercover who was supposed to be traveling with a friend. Mike was the supposed friend. He knew there was something wrong when Trevor of all people had offered him a respite. 

"An old friend of mine is traveling to the west, why don't you join him? It would certainly do you some good."

And that's when Mike should've put a foot down because Trevor Evans who was a Union Army officer and a cavalry commander in the civil war was also -in the blunt- a damned man who'd sometimes resemble having the brain of a toad. Mike and Trevor were intimate friends, sure but it didn't do much to Trevor's cursed intentions that end how the way they are supposed to. Cursed.

They grew up together as orphans in Rhode Island, therefore the word family was swift on the description of their bond. The orphanage they had been to was one that had powerful and eminent ties, using these relations Mike and Trevor had infamously become the apple of everyone's eye. 

While Trevor took up to the military as a cause, Mike was still attached to his books and trade. They parted ways, as Trevor went to Washington DC for some time while Mike resided in Cambridge, when they were old enough to do so. They had been recommended by the man who owned the orphanage. Frank Joseph adored the two of them and they regularly visited him once or twice a month if the occasion called for it and if Trevor and Mike were protective of Frank, the older man would face high water and hail to protect his family.

He had just finished his learning period when Trevor had suggested that he should take to travelling.

It occurred to him how naïve he was in taking this decision to travel with a man, an undercover Pinkerton detective in specific who was the literal representation of northern invasion to hunt down a notorious gang of outlaws. Who couldn't be named to Mike because confidentiality was a clause. 

This could go wrong in more terrifying ways than Mike would bother to count.

And he only knew the detective's name, Travis Tanner, a blue eyed man with wrinkle lines and an old face when they reached beyond the borders of North. Of course, he was brimming with coarse rage. He was in the west unarmed (not like he'd do much with a gun) and with a man he didn't know. Somehow they made it to California without much hassle, spent a month or so there as they went travelling, technically hunting for the outlaw because Mike spent most of his time indoors. His safety was at stake, frolicking wasn't his idea. That was until Travis received a letter from Chicago recalling him back to Washington DC. 

Mike was relieved. He did not like the west. Not one bit. He despised the ale, missed the glass of champagne or wine. He despised the small rooms, the humidity and the frequent gunshots heard in the streets. The uncouth language. The law that had no arms, the rules that had no effect and the people had no chains barring them. It was free. But unprotected freedoms come at a cost that Mike had seen it being paid in the most unforgiving ways.

He missed home severely so when they could finally return to Washington, he was deliriously delighted. And so far so good until.

Until they had stepped on this first class carriage that had halted immediately in the event of a missing train tracks. "Outlaws!" A man screamed at the back of the car clutching his wife's hands closer to his chest.

Mike's parched throat turned dryer while Travis looked suspiciously afraid, the woman behind them grasped her silver rosary whispering prayers and thoughts out to heaven.

-"and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil!"

But if there was a God then his ears had fallen deaf today. 

"Alright now. Quiet and y'all will have a nice story to tell your friends today." A voice declared.

He heard footsteps, heavier with each sound before they came in. Through the front and the back, he bent his head down. This was exactly what he had been trying so hard to avoid and the reason why he hadn't travelled back to his home on his own. There were four men in front and two in the back who began collecting or rather snatching away the valuables placed on the floor.

He wondered if it had been normalized that it was understood to place one's gold on the floor in the carriage if one unfortunately met a gang of outlaws. Because it didn't take a word more for the outlaws to equip for them to do so.

Mike was ready to give away his golden locket as he kept his silver ring hidden. It was a birthday present from Trevor and while he was afraid for his life, it would take death itself to rip that ring off his person. But Mike was afraid that it would be seen as an invitation

Whispers passed around quietly and he looked sideways to Travis who was trembling but seemed somehow managed to pass a poised stance. _ Odd, _ he thought, Travis had a rein on his appearance and a command over his aura that had initially sparked respect in Mike. 

"Well, well, ain't this funny?" A rugged voice growled, annoyed and if Mike strained, anger as well. "Been hearin' that you've been lookin' for me, regards from Pinkertons eh?"

Mike couldn't believe his luck. Which by the way was usually somewhere between non existential and horridly macabre. Tension tightened his chest and bile rose to his throat as he rubbed his palms to the side of his grey trousers. The outlaw his partner had been ordered to search for had found them instead and Mike feared for his life.

"Specter, I didn't t-think I'd see you again."

"An' you left 'fore I could meet you? Plenty rude with yo' friend."

"Leave him out of it. This boy has nothing to do with it." 

"Oh does he?" The outlaw spat out, he had a nasty dosage of venom spewing in his tone and Mike tightened his grip over the book he had been reading. 

He took a deep breath before a chancing a glance. Raising his dark hat to meet the face of an outlaw famed for his merciless bearings to Northerners. They knew the man by his name or even appearance for that matter but not his face, his face that no one had ever witnessed, or remembered, the one he stared into which returned it with great vengeance.

And to think of all notoriety out there in the west, it had to be Harvey Specter the Pinkerton's were scavenging for.

Tanned in dirt and sweat, he had a tough glare and a calcutive glare that turned thoughtful for the brink of a moment. He tipped the back of his wide brimmed hat as he examined Mike with considerable conscious. Mike dropped his gaze to anything, anything out the window that could calm the rough beatings of his heart. 

He wanted to run even in the dying heat if it meant to put distance between him and this outlaw.

"Get 'em outta here, Johnny. Take Fisher with you." He ordered and the worst had occurred, Travis and him were held by the men obeying Harvey and were pushed if not dragged out of the carriage. 

He was going to die. Oh god. He cursed his stars for not learning how to fight when Trevor had offered him. Even then he doubted a way would be out of the dry terrain.

He could hope for mercy.

Or he could hope for a pleasant death.

"Mike listen, Specter will kill me." His partner whispered, "but you, you my boy, you still have a chance to escape to the nearest station. We're not a mile away."

"They won't let me go, Mr. Tanner. I've seen his face."

"I know, I know, Mike." Which made Mike feel he really didn't. "But you will either find a way or make one." He ordered Mike right before Harvey stepped down from the carriage. Orders were good, Mike could work with them.

"Travis. Been a good fuckin' long time? Thought you'd come back to the south but God was I surprised seein' you fight for _ fuckin' _ bluebellies."

"If you're gonna kill me, Specter. Get on with it but leave the boy."

"About that." Harvey's gaze was upon him again making him shift uncomfortably under the man's scrutiny, taking in the appearance of Mike's lounge suite which had been the only feasible outfit to make this trip back at the moment.

"What is he? Yo' bed warmer?"

Mike almost choked on thick air while Travis made a snippet of revolts, "hold your bloody tongue, Harvey-"

-"you didn't fuckin' hold yours, traitor now did you?" Harvey responded with the gun's muzzle painfully pressed between his eyes. 

"Go to hell, Harvey-"

A gunshot was heard a moment later and Mike let out a shiver of a breath. Travis' body lay dead with the build of a few more bullets that resonated in Harvey's anger. Mike had seen war at a young age. But the murder of a man he knew right in front of him still proved to be one among the few things he failed to take in. 

"Maybe I'll meet you there, Tanner."

But it reminded him of what would happen to him if he didn't think first.

"Now, yo' name sir." He politely asked Mike, as if a man wasn't lying on the ground with blood pooling around him.

"Mike."

"Alright now, Mr. Mike. You listen here, you're going to be next."

"Please no." He pleaded desperately.

"I'd hate to do it." Harvey struck as he twirled the weapon in his arm. "Aww well, you've seen my face and I can't let you go now sir."

"I'm not asking you to let me go. I'm asking you to let me live." Mike stated, swallowing the dryness in his mouth.

"Same thing."

"No, I'm more use to you alive than dead."

"Is that so?" Harvey asked amused as his eyes crinkled lightly.

"You're leaving to Missouri tomorrow, aren't you? To visit your brother right?" He said with precision and this information he had acquired from Travis who had a terrible habit of getting drunk just not drunk enough to reveal the name of the outlaw he had been searching for.

Harvey's eyes narrowed to a dangerous flare and he fisted Mike's shirt, pulling him close enough for the latter to take in a mouthful of the old whiskey the other man emanated.

"How?" And Harvey's voice wasn't lying, he'd kill Mike without a second thought if he didn't word himself out cautiously.

_ You will either find a way or make one. _

Travis' order rung in his ears like church bells on a Sunday. He looked up to meet Harvey's engulfing gaze and was sure he could almost feel his breath in his cheek. "The Pinkertons had asked Travis only to dig in on what could be known about you, sir. He had reported back and now a killer near your brother's cottage."

"You're lying." Harvey bluntly pointed out. _ This would not do _, Mike's eyes blew with rage, "well then if you think I am, sir. Then why don't you wait until your brother dies and we'll-"

Harvey cocked the gun and held it to the side of Mike's head, "careful boy. You don't wan' get bang'd up."

"You killed Travis." Mike continued, seemingly ignorant of the gun placed on him. "The only one who knows the killer is me and if he does not find me at the station tomorrow noon, he will blow your brother's cottage. And it won't be a pretty sight, Mr. Specter."

Harvey tightened his grip before cursing out loud in a proficient use of the kind of words Mike would never use. 

"Get the horses." He commanded as the men scattered to follow his instructions. Mike didn't let go of the breath he was holding, he was too high and alert. Now that Harvey may have believed him with conditions, it also made him wonder of the road ahead. He had lied, obviously, there was definitely no killer because all Travis knew was that Harvey had a brother and that both of them hailed from Georgia before they shifted to Missouri in their youth and perhaps some more but he doubted it's lethality. Nothing more, nothing less then.

The outlaw pushed him onto a horse before he swung up behind him as Mike straightened his back while the hot sun battered against his skin. Mike wondered if the horse could take the weight of both him and Harvey but it lifted with ease. His body was erect and he was holding onto the saddle in an effort to not make physical contact with the man behind him.

That was all fine until a strong, calloused arm snaked around his middle and jerked Mike back to press his back against Harvey's chest.

"Let me make this clear yankee, if you're lyin' to my face in a funny way," He whispered to Mike, lips hovering over his earlobe, tightening his hold over his over the northerner's body, "I will hunt you down an' when I find you. You'll be writhing 'neath me an' I won't be kind in the slightest."

Mike took a sharp intake of humid air, his lips quivering at the threat before they began to journey

He needed to act fast like his life depended on it.

Mostly because it did.

| • • • • |

Harvey had been away from home too long. It was decided he'd be visiting his brother some time soon which had finally come to be tomorrow. It was a rough life for him out here in the south. His home had been torn down by some drunk Union soldier who couldn't hold his liquor or cigarettes. It was a fire that took his parents away but poverty hadn't let them live either. It hardly was sparing his brother and him but it was the Union's response that infuriated him.

They didn't do anything. On paper, they closed the case with fancy words. And growing resentment had somehow found him on the side of the Confederates. The war lasted long and hard and Harvey knew defeat when General Lee surrendered, it wasn't an easy way back to Missouri or Georgia or whatever pinned home on itself.

He remembered the war like it was yesterday, he remembered marching forward with his brothers as cannonballs blew out and shot were fired. He didn't know how he survived the war when all his other comrades were dead but he did. Marcus was relieved to see him alive, his brother hadn't taken a side and Harvey didn't blame the man, he had a family to take care of, young Benjamin was going on five this year. He hadn't seen his nephew in such a long while.

So it was an outlaw's life for him through and through. He hadn't taken nicely to the result of the war even if it was expected nor did he take kindly to any Union soldier who fought in the war stuffing up to his face.

Roots had been made and the seed had been poisoned from the beginning. 

He was usually dodging the law, it almost came to a neck to neck difference to when he'd face the gallows or be a free man. But Harvey always slipped away. Always.

But when he heard the news of a man in town and he hadn't thought much of it unless he saw the man himself. It was Travis _ fuckin' _ Tanner. Harvey knew the man, they had been good friends in his youth before he had seen him in the war. It was betrayal that flashed through his eyes when Travis aimed and fired at one of mates. But Travis should've known.

Harvey never forgave and he never forgot.

Travis was working for Pinkerton's or in Harvey's mind, Northerners who didn't know where to stick it. He was trying to dig into Harvey himself. It was an unpleasant surprise and Harvey wanted him finished once and for all. Vengeance ran deep within him but before Harvey could cut a move he vanished with a supposed companion.

And the joy on his face when he had raided the carriage. That was purely by the will of fate, it brought Harvey to him.

Travis was petrified and the sight was pleasing to Harvey but his eyes fell on the man next to him, head bent in submission or fear, he didn't know which but it stirred something frighteningly deep in him. The boy finally raised his head, mostly in his late twenties and when Harvey met his staggering blue eyes his face changed. 

God, he was pretty.

Harvey didn't differentiate between who he bedded but God, bless his poor soul, he _ had _ to have to him.

But of course turn of events had kept him on his toes and now he was fretting for the life of his brother and family. That and he had this delectable yankee man in his arms.

A soft groan left his mouth as Harvey looked down at Mike. His cheek was slightly flushed and pale pink lips parted and Harvey almost took that as an invitation. It occurred to Harvey that he had never been out to the South and it was hilarious he had been kept intact so far. Mike fell into a surreal state with his muscles in pain and the extreme heat, without knowing so, he leaned back against Harvey's chest, his neck at the latter's mercy. 

Harvey had spared him drops of water because, he said and Mike quoted, apparently you're worth better alive than dead. It had been a solid of a day and a half since they left that train. They were nearing a Tavern by a few miles and Mike internally blanched. God this was going to be so much more trying than it usually would demand of him.

Okay, in all honesty when he would return to Washington DC, he was going to set Trevor on fire. That or lock him in a room filled with frogs.

If he returned that is, chances till now stood bleak.

Harvey pulled in the reins of his horse, halting to a stop at the stable as did the rest of the men who got down their horse. Harvey pulled Mike down with ease which made the latter scowl at him in vexation. He wasn't a child and he, most certainly, could get down a horse himself. 

Harvey looked amused at his response but if he had any remarks, he didn't voice them out. Mike looked up to read the name of the tavern which on a rusted piece of wood was painted in pastel orange, _ Brawdy's Bar of Brewery and Beds. _

The alliteration hit the funny bone in him before he knew he was letting a small smile engulf his lips. It was honestly a peculiar name and he almost let a chuckle out before he schooled his expressions. Harvey watched him curiously, noting every single speck of reaction that made him thoughtful in his eyes.

Mike could hear music, dance and women. He was greeted by the sight of the same, his stomach growled and his thirst for water had not been quenched. He wondered if he'd get food as he was made to sit down beside Harvey. Something about the outlaw owned the attention of the crowd he traveled with.

Mike had heard about the rebel even during the Civil war. He was a trusted Confederate soldier and a brutally fearsome one. There had been tales about him in the first and perhaps the second battle of Bull Run in consecutive years and many more battles that followed and Mike didn't doubt the rumours when it hailed him a dangerous man. 

And after the civil war, he transformed into an outlaw resisting northern influence over south. His raids on banks and trains were legendary and ingenious. Therefore, it made Mike question if he should be honoured to be in the man's presence or terrified. 

With Harvey's eyes studying his movements, he decided on being terrified.

He had been given two full glasses of water, thanking them, the first which he drowned without much thought and the second he carefully poured the water onto a small portion of the handkerchief he carried by course of habit. Wiping his face, he felt refreshed, he was given bread and a cup of beer. He didn't have much resistance as he ate it with a knife and a fork. His manners it would seem were intact. 

It was when he was drinking the beer when Harvey's loose remark was voiced out.

"For a man threaten'd with death two days ago, you look more pampered than a cub."

The liquid went into the wrong pipe and before Mike knew it, he was coughing copiously before regaining his breath. 

"If that was an attempt to almost choke me, consider it plausibly done."

"You didn't answer my question." Harvey stated.

"You didn't ask one, sir." Mike said and the accidental bite in his tone could've been life threatening as Harvey's gaze sharpened so he added, "it's because in the end of it all, no matter what happens, you are still going to kill me. So I might as well enjoy the last bits of life."

Which was in a way true.

"Might not kill you." Harvey mused, letting his fingers drag across the wooden surface of the table. "Might keep ya."

"And pray tell me, do what?" 

His eyes flickered up to meet Mike's, his face seemed darker, "you really wan' know yankee?"

Mike averted his eyes and looked back at his food, eating quietly and trying to be seemingly unaffected by unspoken words. He had never been with a man or a woman for that matter, he hadn't thought of it until he had been forced to imagine. And when he did, he seemed to have no problem in bedding a man but Mike reminded himself that was not the point.

Harvey Specter was bad news and the sooner he put volumes of ground between them, the better.

He bit his lip watching Harvey's leer shifting to the movement which really was not his intention. It was at this moment he had a sudden flash of Travis' body splayed on the dirty ground he had seen two days ago. The image frightened him and his guard came up with barbed wires and thorns. Outwardly, Mike remained composed, he had noticed Harvey leave with another man, keeping about four men in charge of the Mike which was a detail that caused him to slump his shoulders in disappointment.

"Say yankee, you rich?"

Mike thought about it before shaking his head to the unnamed horseman, "Not really. I may be born in New England but not everyone there is rich. I'm not, well, very important."

"So yuh was fuckin' with 'im then?"

He flinched

"I was sent as an excuse of a companion."

The man regarded Mike with wild suspicion, "xcuse eh? So you ev'r fought in the war?"

"No, sir." He answered short.

The man nodded at him and took a drag of his cigarette, "know of a man named Elbert Isomerks?" 

Mike's eyes blew confused, "no, sir, why do you ask?"

"Apparently in the north, they call 'im Favian. Wouldn't pick a fight with no one that didn't call for it but 'im I would. Been out for his neck ev'r since. Bless the man if I find him or before me Harvey does."

"Harvey?"

"Harvey has old enemies in the union but few he has nev'r seen. Favian's blood has a bounty on it and it spells in Harvey's name. We raided your train because we had information that he was in the damned rail. Turned out we got 'em wrong and Harvey's angry. Ain't a pretty sight when he's angry."

"And what did the man do to Harvey, sir?"

"Gentle manners," The man sneered and Mike figured it wasn't compliment. "Name's Billy and so far as what Favian did to Harvey, ain't my story to tell, lad." 

"I see."

"But I warn ya. Don' shoot him in the back, the bullet will bounce back on ya."

Mike nodded quietly. This was a damp. He could either complain about rose bushes having thorns or thorn bushes having roses. He inwardly inspired himself to smile, the man who had spoken those words had been a president he admired. Abraham Lincoln hated being called Abe and was oddly obsessed with cats. Mike had met him in a funny way.

But that was a story for another day. Now, he had hatched a plan for his escape and hoped to God it would work

"How well do you aim, Mr. Billy?"

The man arched brow at Mike, almost amused at how he could keep politeness undamaged in a place like this but the question caught him off guard.

"Been huntin' since I was nine, lad. What'd ye expect?"

"You think you can hit bullseye there?" He asked, pointing at the centre of the dart board placed on the wooden surface, near the bar where several men were sitting.

"You challengin' me boy?" Billy asked.

"Can you?" Mike repeated promptly. 

Billy chuckled in confidence and that's exactly what Mike wanted. The man took his gun out of the brown holster strapped to the side of his waist. He took an aim and Mike had no doubt he would hit his target except that when Billy pulled the trigger, he nudged the older man's arm to the right, completely displacing the target of its location.

It hit one of the men sitting by the bar. And it was seen as an attack on the entire group, they rose up in arms and a crossfire of bullets began before Mike knew it. All of Harvey's men were engaged in either finding a table to be pushed down as defense or were taking part in the gunning down.

Several exchanges of bullets caused him to crawl to the side of the bar, it was barbaric and if Mike felt guilty for starting a fight he didn't show it in a drop or a gallon.

With attention no longer garnered at Mike, he slowly slipped out in swift and cautious steps through the backdoor which led to the stable. An escape had been made but he would not celebrate until he at least put hundred miles or mountain between him and his captor.

About three quarters of an hour later, Harvey returned to men with exhausted guns and a missing captive. Billy had two good seconds before he began explaining the state they had been in. Narrowly escaped death from being severely outnumbered. He clenched his teeth in anger and saw red before the stable boy strutted in. Saying that he had a message for Harvey from a man who had taken his horse.

_ "Tell him." Mike had said climbing up the horse deftly, "that while I'm thankful for the kindness he showed me by keeping me fed, I hope we will never walk paths of the same dust again. Bye." _

_ And he turned to look over his shoulder with a charming smile, "oh and also, I wasn't really related to the Pinkerton's in any way I lied about his brother being in danger who's probably having a splendid time in Missouri. Or not. Who knows? Not me. Tell him that would you? Thank you." _

And with no shame or integrity stole Harvey's own horse, Falcon and disappeared into the growing horizon and was nowhere to be seen close to a speck in the gliding sunlight.

Harvey was torn between laughing to his fullest and lodging a bullet into Billy but since it was rude to do the latter to one's second in command, he chose to be quiet. Which in Billy's years, he had seen him do only when before a battle against the union.

_ Oh god bless that boy, no God nor devil would hear his prayers _, Billy thought grimly. That is if the last-mentioned hadn't already inhibited Harvey the moment he had laid his eyes on that boy. Brought out an animal and Billy could only count the days before the Northerner would thoroughly meet his worst fear.

"That boy. I am going to find. " Harvey stated, "alright?" 

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, the only matter of question would be how long and when? Out of which Billy was not sure he wanted the answer to.

| • • • • |

Mike was a terrific rider. 

That could've been the only reason he was able to make it out of Iowa, past Missouri borders on Harvey's horse. He sensed the animal's aversion but had smoothed his ride through for the moment and now he wondered if he should exchange the horse for another.

But he eventually decided against.

If, by some action of a force that did not favour him, Harvey found him then the news of selling his horse wouldn't sit well with the outlaw he knew to have a temper to reckon.

He hadn't the means to send for Trevor but he knew in his mind that Trevor was searching for him or would've at least figured out that something was wrong. Until then he was on his own, Mike had to indulge in gambling, of course, he cheated his way through, yet, to be caught but seeing how refined his system of winning was, it would be some time till he got caught. It was dangerous, if the men he played with knew he had cheated, it would cost him a limb or two or a life. His illicitly earned money, he had given for the least respectable rooms he had seen in the duration of his life with clean showers if he was lucky enough.

But Mike never stopped riding. So it only took him less than it would to cross Iowa because in three days, he had spent only thirteen hours in sleeping. He knew Missouri was a terrible choice of place to be in considering who was after his skin. So he rode like the wind and refused to stop unless it was the horse who required the rest. Mike would never torture an animal, he took as much care as he could of the dark maned mount, watered it and rested it as far as possible. 

But there came a point where Mike couldn't carry on.

It had been six days, he was exhausted, every muscle in his limbs ached, under fed and in desperate need of bath and proper food. He wasn't built for this life, Mike was far too pampered but now he was spoilt. He was probably lost and his initial determination of outrunning Harvey and his gang was depleting.

He just wanted to go home.

Was that too much to ask for?

And apparently it was. 

When fatigue hit him harder than it should've, he felt himself asking for rooms and clothes at a nearby lodging. Keeping the mount in the stable, he stumbled into a room in cleaner garments and carelessly locked the door before falling into a death like sleep on the bed.

It was difficult but priorities had to be in order.

The alehouse had though been owned by a woman, a rather fiercely observant sort.

And protective as well, because she did not understand possibly why would the horse she had practically gifted a close friend ages ago come in the hands of this stranger.

She liked answers to her questions. As soon as possible.

So Jessica Pearson sent for Harvey, informing him of a stranger who had come in with his horse.

| • • • • |

Boots scrubbed hard and loud against the wooden flooring in rhythm for the clouds to thunder. The sun had barely dropped beneath the clouds and the eyes of a man near the window followed it. The trees surrounded his home drooped in its nature and he knew what that meant.

Far away. Too far away.

His breath felt stolen away by the miles that had been put between them. 

"Trevor." A hand reached his shoulder, "Michael will be fine. For goodness' sake stop blaming yourself!"

"No he won't, Jenny." 

"Trevor, you knew not."

"And so? I should've stopped him. Anything. Just kept him safe. Kept him here."

-"Trevor, Mike decided to go on his own." Another voice intervened.

He turned cold when he looked at the owner of the speaker.

"Get out."

"Mike's a big man, he can handle himself." The other man said, patting the other male's shoulder. Jenny looked at Trevor with concern, knowing that he was holding back and chaos was seconds from happening.

"General Lenox, with all due respect. Please leave." Jenny requested.

"All I'm trying to say is that Michael is going to be fine and-"

-"fine? Michael Ross is out there somewhere. I don't know if he's alright. Dead or alive. I don't know! No letter, he could be starving! So don't you dare tell me he's going to be fine!" Trevor roared and Jenny flinched, that really was long overdue. 

Shocked but mindful, General Lenox left as soon as he came. He had been unwelcomed and the soner that was put through the table the better.

She heard the pain in Trevor's voice and knew Mike's long absence and Travis Tanner's death had taken him off guard and nothing could affirm Mike's well being. It had been his mistake to trust him with Tanner, the guy worked in Pinkerton's. What were the odds that he wasn't off sailing close to the wind? Hell, Trevor didn't even mean for Mike to take it seriously. But when he suggested the idea of traveling west, sparks grew in Mike's eyes only for a moment. And Trevor knew he'd want to go. He wanted Mike to have his chance at freedom because he'd never been where people couldn't see him. He wanted that for him and look where it got him.

"I'm leaving." He announced.

Jenny looked up at him, eyes that had anticipated the statement lit up, "where?"

"White house."

Trevor hesitated for a moment before looking at Jenny, "Jen, he is my brother."

"Go." She said, "and don't come back until you've brought him home."

Trevor steeled his demeanor before nodding at her. He had heard of the outlaw, the one who was tailing Mike down. One of the passengers on the train had overheard the scene that took place and it didn't take much to figure that Mike had lied. The Saloon of Brody's had sent out information through telegrams upon questioning from the union. So now his friend was on run and Trevor had no clue where he could have possibly be headed except that the end point was probably North. 

That and the other troubling issue was regarding the outlaw's identity itself. Trevor knew him, fought against him in the war. And if knew him any better, he would find Mike by foul or fair means and preferably the former because of his breed. 

Trevor could rush but only time could tell.

_ Hold on, brother _. He thought before riding out to the White House at his earliest.

| • • • • |

Mike woke up to a serenade of evening light, whistling in through the curtains. They woke him up gently as they could, he leaned into it before rising from the bed before he sauntered off to take a bath. It wasn't the best of the baths he had but at least he was clean, he had been given spare clothes last night to change into before he gave his hardly respectable outfit for washing.

He didn't know Saloons did that. But when he asked kindly they didn't refuse.

Mike made his way down, ate well and paid as properly as he could afford to. 

"Thank you," he said as the woman took his plates away, an odd look in her eyes laced with what he could perceive as doubt. 

He asked for his clothes and had been given back for which he was courteous. He was well-fed and well-rested, Mike didn't remember sleeping well for a long time now. 

His loose white shirt was almost coming off his shoulder, he was certain it wasn't his size but he made do. Mike had slept his way through a day which was concerning but not surprising. He opened the door of his room, locking it behind him and it was uncanny how Mike immediately knew.

Knew that there was something wrong.

His hand instinctively went to the handle of the door.

"Don' even think bout it."

Mike froze, thoughts dissipated into the air as his eyes met the sight of Harvey leaning against the wall. He took a step back but the door that had now been locked from the outside. He looked at the window, too far. Harvey would sustain his escape and have a strong hold over him and heaven knows Mike didn't want him to come any closer to having physical contact.

"You know it's crazy."

"What?" Mike managed croak out.

"I ain't sure if I want to see you bleed or scream for me. Awfully confused here."

Mike stiffened as he gaped at the outlaw, noticing the first significant detail was how tired he looked. 

"You have no power to do that, Mr. Specter." 

"Sure 'bout that dove?"

The endearment caught Mike off guard much less than the meaning of this sentence. He clenched his jaw, "Look if it's money that you desire, I will send it to you as soon as you let me return home."

"Money doesn't compare, boy." Harvey pulled himself away from the wall as he sauntered over to Mike's personal space who stood straight up with a face unlikely to give up, "to what you could offer me."

To say Mike was taken aback would be an insult, he very well knew what he had been roped into the moment Harvey had warned him. He just didn't know he'd find him this soon. "There are so many men and women out there who would be thrilled to be at your service, Mr. Specter."

His smile broadened as he studied Mike's statement with a brow raised, "Call me Harvey, have been ridin' for days now. If I din' find ye here, I'd catch up to you when you'd be in the county. An' when I was ridin' I had a mind on you. All the way thru'. I had a mind on you."

Daggers weren't sharp enough to match the look in Harvey's eyes and Mike had his gaze down, he hadn't known this intensity nor the obsessed man in front of him who always got what he wanted. And the direction of his desire was Mike but he refused to go down without a fight. 

"I will not yield to you." He stared at him in the eye with resilience of northern arrogance.

Harvey chuckled.

His hand travelled to the back of his neck as he looked back and forth from his face to his lips as Mike closed his eyes, heart pounding in his chest, knees threatening to give out and he had a second before he heard, "ready or not, dove, here I come."

He managed to inhale Harvey's scent before he was roughly shoved back, it made him part his lips to yelp out before they were captured by Harvey's mouth. It was fierce, dominant and no holds barred and Mike wondered if there were any. His tongue pressed to Mike's as he pushed him against the door. And Harvey swore, with God as his witness, nothing in his life had tasted sweeter.

Everything came back to him, the war, the defeat and failure. Wading his way through corpse, blood and toil. Watching General Lee surrender with dignity and grace of a foreign kind. His return to Missouri, burnt counties, burnt crops. The people he had lost and what they had left behind. Above all, Death. 

This was his meed. He deserved it.

It wasn't like he could resist him if he tried, the boy had practically been gifted with pale handsomeness to do more harm than the gun in Harvey's leather holster. And Harvey had never been known to resist what he knew he'd like.

He broke the kiss and Mike looked at him, in fear or in anticipation or perhaps both. He bent down and threw him over his shoulder with ease as he walked towards the bed and recklessly put him down. The younger male flinched and narrowed his eyes at Harvey, "you're an animal."

"That my fault?" Harvey shot back, straddling the man.

"Come again?" Mike scowled.

"I've been eyein' ye from the time I step foot down that train. I told ye, yo'v been on my mind. This," he pointed to himself in his state of possessive fervour, "is what you turned me into."

And Mike took a moment to be reluctantly flattered, he moved his neck bare unintentional before a blush creeped up to his cheeks and Harvey sucked in a deep breath. Christ! This boy was going to be the death of him.

_ Fuck it. _ Harvey thought before diving into Mike's neck, licking the soft tasting skin before nibbling on it to mark territory. A moan barely escaped his mouth that made him smirk against his skin. Mike closed his eyes tightly, refusing to acknowledge the heat building up in his belly. He didn't know what he needed but he certainly wasn't going to show he needed. His hands grasped the sheets beneath him with teeth clenched shut. Mike wasn't going to give in, he'd bear it with the patience of a dog, it would soon be done with.

He heard his shirt being ripped off from him before he felt it and a moment passed more which was accompanied with the rustle of clothes for calloused hands to return, an uneven breath escaped Mike. And Harvey knew, try as he might but he would surrender sooner or later. 

Bites were left at places Mike would thankfully never have to show anyone, why was he marking him was an answer he didn't have. His nipples had been sucked and lightly grazed over by Harvey's teeth and he had to bite his tongue preventing any sounds to be voiced. Harvey's weight over him felt godly like this was the way the heavens, saw befitting of him. His belt was unbuckled and it took ten seconds and a blast of difference in temperature to make him realise that he had been hard something which Harvey was pleased with because he wrapped his hand around his cock and gave it a light squeeze, experimentally, drawing an accidentally loud wanton moan from Mike. 

A fire brewed in his chest and Harvey was adding fuel to it. Mike had his moments when he would touch himself but this was what made them scream. And he knew now.

Harvey's eyes grew dark, _ it would be a sin to not play that music again _. He took Mike in his mouth, sucking off with variance and skill, bobbing his head back and forth. 

To say Mike could resist that would be a simple overestimation of his abilities. He cried out in agony and desire for something he didn't know but for all his failed attempts at keeping himself from being aroused, he didn't submit. 

Not quite yet. 

This was wrong, so wrong, the upsurge of pleasure, the way Mike seemed to reluctantly enjoy it, the act in itself. Harvey would ruin him. Completely. He hoped he could bury this somewhere, somehow, this treacherous secret that he had now attracted the weight off. He could smell Harvey, laden traits of hard liquor mixed with smoke and earth. The chaotic fragrance swarmed his head, taking the effect of a medicine over him.

He could hardly see straight when Harvey inserted a finger into him, promptly rimming him as Mike screamed into the air filling it with need and raw hunger but Harvey stopped, he looked at Mike expectantly. Waiting as patiently as he could for him admit and it took a full minute until he heard a whimper.

"Please."

"Please what?" Harvey asked equally out of breath. 

Mike choked it down his throat, his pride and arrogance that stood so long came crumbling down in sheer vain.

"I submit." He whispered, desperation glowing in lows.

" 'N what does that mean?"

Harvey beheld the sinister heat in his eyes for the man beneath him to look up to him and when Mike did, his brilliant blue eyes consumed Harvey, they were glassy as a tear slipped past.

"I belong to you."

And that was it. Harvey retrieved his swollen erection from his trousers and discarded them as quickly as he could. Mike mourned the loss of skin before he awaited the return of his hands.

Harvey fucked him hard and fast, like he knew he owned him, he could feel the blood rushing through his veins as he pounded inside of him and he hoped he would never stop. 

Mike's arms reached out to Harvey as he rolled his hips against him, chastity and resilience be damned. It was pain and pleasure and Mike drank it like a parched man in the deserts. But there came a point where one of Harvey's thrusts made him see stars, the pressure made his insides run wild and the man above him chuckled before hitting the same spot vigorously and Mike's nails dug art on his arms 

He was writhing beneath Harvey just as the man had promised he would be. God knows he was tainted the moment Harvey laid his eyes on him in carriage. 

What hope did he ever think of having?

He was still inside him when he reached out to Mike, grabbing his jaw and tugging his lips into a kiss. Mike sighed, letting go of his past vows for the moment as he let Harvey willingly invade his mouth as he forgot his own identity, he let himself forget that he was leaning against an outlaw who he beheld. One famed for murder, thievery and the devil knows what more. 

Harvey broke the kiss and Mike chased after his lips before his head was dipped down by the tip of Harvey's forehead.

Catching his breath and stealing a glance into the light coffee flakes in Harvey's eyes dancing in swirls of amber whiskey. He looked sharp in his own ways and had leather like skin, hardened due to efforts in war which merited an array of scars across his body. Mike swallowed hard and bit his lip, finally accepting how attractive the man was -with his features- so unconventionally appealing.

Purely instinctive in nature for the time being, Mike raised his hand to touch the scar that stretched from his collarbone, across his chest and ended at the side of his abdomen. 

"Sharpsburg." 

Mike winced, he knew that battle, Trevor had been fatally injured in it. Jenny didn't sleep for days and Mike had forgotten what it was to breathe until he saw him proper again.

He didn't question further, it wasn't his place and Harvey didn't trust him. So he did what he could do best, he fell asleep out of the exhaustion that had a physical strain at him, hoping to God almighty that Harvey would be gone by the time he awoke. 

Lest it should lead to consequences.

| • • • • |

Mike awoke early the next morning, he found no weight sleeping next to him. It was confusing. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed, he decided to feel relief because it meant he could go back home. Without much worry. Mike tried to get up from bed and felt sore, he almost couldn't walk. _ This was ridiculous _. He wore his breeches which took a long time before he stood to his feet. He winced as he tried taking slow steps, Mike almost tripped before he caught the edge of the dresser and winced.

"Careful."

Caught off guard, Mike fell and had an arm not been immediately draped around his middle, he would've hit the ground rather painfully. 

"Clumsy." Harvey stated making him lean backwards against his own body. 

"Oh forgive me!" Mike snapped, "you weren't taken unceremoniously by a complete animal yesterday were you?"

"Unceremoniously?"

Mike gave him a look of spite followed by a raised brow before he realised Harvey was most likely illiterate, "umm, harshly or not properly."

"Properly you say?" Harvey asked amused as his hands gripped Mike's hips, "I could bend you oe'r this and take you properly if you say so."

Mike who had implied the opposite, widened his eyes as he went pale, "you wouldn't!"

Harvey chuckled into his neck, making him breathe hard as the outlaw moved to his ear, pecking its tip lightly before dragging a little moan past Mike's mouth.

"Think yo too far gone off to decide what I would do, dove."

Mike swallowed hard. "Why are you still here? I thought you were done with me. Haven't you had your share? Isn't that enough?"

" 'nuff? Don' think so. You're mine now, ain't gonna leave nowhere without you."

Mike stood horrified as he spun around to meet his eyes, ignoring the throb that came with it. "What do you mean? I can't be with you. It won't be long until people come searching for me. They'll mark you dead and-"

-"funny, I swore I heard concern right there."

He ignored him, "my point being no, I am not yours. I may have submitted to you when we-" he stopped himself from saying the term, making love, because that was far from it. 

-"engaged in activities which points to the fact that no, I am most certainly not yours. People don't belong to each other, they are not cattle. But people will come after me and-"

Harvey silenced him with thumb gently sliding along his lip line, his inspection sharp on him and had grown heavier with each word Mike had been babbling without fair thought. 

"You. Are. Mine. And I happen to be mighty mindful on what's mine." He accentuated each word with a possessive degree higher, clearly not done with Mike who was speechlessly quivering. "When I get back you better be lookin' decent 'cause dressed or not, I'll put you on that horse and I'm never leavin' you again. Clear that?"

Mike's eyes burnt through Harvey's out of spite before he looked away, "crystal."

"Good boy." He ruffled Mike's hair who for a brief moment had forgotten his anger and had almost leaned close into the gesture. He had always adored pleasing people, Trevor remarked it would most likely get him into trouble rather but Mike blamed it as a fault in his stars.

And that's when something hit him.

"Wait, I can't be riding a horse in this condition." He said incredulously as Harvey's hand fell on the handle.

The man grinned before looking over his shoulder, "that my fault?"

Mike's jaw dropped in a manner he had always seen as improper.

Heavens have mercy on him.

He had a warm water bath that soothed his muscles and once he felt clean enough he stepped out of the bathroom and dressed in clean clothes of his lounge suite that fit him like it was made yesterday. He opened the third drawer of the dresser which had in it a sparkling silver signet ring, embedded on which was the symbol of the Gordian knot. Trevor came to mind as Mike pushed him back and safely put the ring in his pocket.

The door opened revealing Harvey and Mike could thankfully walk without assistance. He looked at him, head to toe, a strange look accompanied him further on before Harvey shook his head. Mike walked forward perfectly, like he would if he had been at home, he had kept his coat in his arms.

Harvey led him past the coloured woman down who almost looked apologetic towards Mike and he deduced she had rattled on him. Harvey hugged her before affectionately bidding her goodbye and Mike pushed down thoughts that reeked of mild jealousy or was it envy? For once he didn't wish to know. He saw Billy who was taking a smoke, he smiled wide towards Mike, flashing a gold teeth at him, " 'ello there."

Mike gave him a look that conveyed his exact feelings across.

"Now, dove, ain't no reason to look that sad n' miserable." Harvey said as he effortlessly lifted Mike and gently placed him on the saddle before climbing onto the mount himself and while he would never say it out loud, he was thankful he did so.

He looked at the ground as he took control of the reins, "what happens if I try to run away from you again?" He quietly whispered.

He could feel Harvey's muscles tense around him before he heard a growl arise behind him, "then I won' have no rest, no food, no water until I find you again. Distance don' matter, I'll come for you and if I find you in the arms of another, man or woman, I will be angry and I will kill them. Then claim you for the world to witness."

Mike swallowed at the details but he had asked for it, he sighed before closing his eyes.

It would be long before he reached home.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THIS: If you want a happy ending this is where you stop. The second chapter may or may not break you and the author takes no further responsibility. 
> 
> And if it does break you.
> 
> Know that I share your pain and it suffocated me to write this.
> 
> In case of Grammatical errors please report it immediately. In case of factual inaccuracies, please note that I wrote this at 2am, under the psychedelic influence of Lana del Rey when a procession of drums and people kept me away from studying the UN charter, 1945.


	2. Crossed.

II.

Weeks. It had been weeks since they were traveling and Mike grew more and more uncertain of where their destination was. Or whether there ever was one. Harvey hadn't approached him which Mike wondered if he should be grateful or wary of. None of the other gang members really acknowledged his presence though they would grow sharp in his absence. Mike thought of it as the consequence of his little stunt in the saloon.

So it was considerably legitimate that he had his own suspicions when Billy approached him one night as the fire kept them warm that night in the suburbs of Kansas city. 

He offered him whiskey which Mike promptly and politely refused as he nibbled on the piece of bread, knee to his chest as the other leg stretched out.

"You don't get him, d'ya?"

Mike frowned before understanding, "I suppose he has his reasons. I refuse to believe there's no method to this madness."

"Gotta alotta learnin' there?"

Mike thought of the various degrees and academic recognitions that were stacked next to each other in a little cupboard at home in Rhode Island, "yes, I suppose you could say that." 

Billy whistled lowly before he lit a drag and took a puff, he blew the smoke to lift away to the midnight sky. He was quiet for awhile before he looked back at Mike, "He ain't known for it."

"Sorry?"

"Harvey. Doesn' pick up men like that."

Mike rolled his eyes, "Should I consider it an honour?"

Billy laughed, "Not really. You're a pretty lookin' yankee. With spirit."

Mike wondered if he should thank him for it or be miffed about his bane. 

"Billy, how long will it be until he lets me go?"

The jolly man lost his jocund smile before he grew wistful, "That boy, is for Harvey to answer. Yuh don' like it but Harvey ain't gonna let go of nothin' he doesn't want. Unless God's will ev'n then. But I see you ain't try runnin', good for you. He doesn't take kindly to it."

So saying Billy left Mike to his own devices who had been recalling the precise story of a book he read long ago. _ Great Expectations _ by _ Charles Dickens _. And Mike wondered if at some point, Pip was as helpless he was. So deep in thought he was in that he didn't realise the company he had until a rustle of the wind made him aware of it.

"Yes?"

Harvey raised brow, "Can't sit here can I ?"

Mike blinked before shaking his head, "That was not what I meant. It's well- never mind." He nervously attached his knees to his chest, reflecting the fire in blue mirrors.

Harvey took out a bottle of whiskey, offered it to him which he again politely refused, "You don't have no one round here to impress boy. Let loose before you lose the opp'rtunity."

Mike was hesitant before taking the bottle and having a taste of it. He'd still prefer Sherry but he wasn't about to voice his opinion. They kept exchanging the bottle to sip lightly as the wind rustled.

"You fought in the war?"

"No, not literally. Was too deep in the pages of my books to bother."

"That so?"

"I graduated from Harvard." Mike stated proudly.

Harvey looked at him before drinking away, "Mr. Specter." Mike began but stopped shortly before the outlaw gave him a narrowed stare. He quickly corrected himself, "Harvey, would you ever like to read and write?"

"Don't find no use for it. Not that I have anyone to teach me."

"I could." Mike immediately said and regretted it right after, later he would be content with blaming it on the liquor.

Harvey's eyes twinkled, "Would you?"

"Well-er it's not like we have much to do except traveling to wherever it is we are traveling."

"I could think of couple'a things here and there for us to do."

Mike's brow shot up before Harvey laughed.

"You ought to get your head out of the dirt."

"What if I don't want to?"

Mike didn't know how to answer that.

His blue eyes blurred in haze as sleep consumed him with tired muscles and before he knew it he was falling into a sturdy pair of arms. He felt knuckles fit for fighting mildly brushing over his cheek. The warmth was too comforting to object to when he was pushed tenderly against the heartbeat of a man he had heard not to have it. 

In the morning he pretended to have been too drunk to recall much but Harvey had remembered clearly because apparently Mike had a rather willing student to learn.

It was the most strangest turn his life had taken yet but Mike didn't refuse, he really did mean it. Imparting knowledge to people was a joy to him and while Harvey was a little too old a dog to learn new tricks, he caught up quickly and Mike was equally determined to be patient.

It had begun as a queer thing so to say.

| • • • • |

The others would look at them funnily, mostly those from Virginian brothers. Some days Mike would teach him and narrate to him a few of his experiences and incidences from the past other days Harvey would train him with a gun triggered specifically after a particularly terrible accident with a few savages.

"But-but Harvey, I do _ not _ need to -"

-"not gon' risk another fight like that."

"Harvey, really-"

Harvey abruptly turned before grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer as an arm snaked around Mike, holding him tightly against him. He dared him to rebel.

Mike didn't. He simply sagged in his arms and sighed at the uncompromising man.

| • • • • |

"Harvey, that is d, the second letter is b."

"Ain't no difference."

"Yes yes there is. Now hurry up, I'm hungry."

"Not me who thought it fine to miss dinner."

"I heard that."

| • • • • |

Mike looked at the squirrel in his hands, he had shot it down. He dropped the gun. Harvey had thought him something very wrong.

"Everything alright there?"

"No."

Harvey sat beside him, "What's wrong?"

"I-I can't bring myself kill."

"That a problem?"

"Isn't it?"

Harvey shook his head, "Not really. When a man shoots, it ain't gon' just hurt his enemy, kill a lil bit of him too. 'Sides books ov'r guns ain't that right yankee?"

Mike looked at him thoughtfully.

"Have you been gone a long time Harvey?"

He remained quiet but Mike doubted that a voice would be necessary.

| • • • • |

"Harvey, who's Elbert Isomerks?"

"A Yankee, helped Grant with too many battles in the war. I'd ever find the bastard to kill him myself. They call him Favian, god's hand up in the north."

"Do you still hate them?"

"Who?"

"Those you fought the war against?"

"Too far gone to say no to that dove."

| • • • • |

"I think he's bored." Billy said. 

"What?"

"Think bout it Harvey. " He prodded on. "That boy is a learn'd man. Don't think he feelin' led out? Ain't there no people he knows here."

Next morning Mike finds a copy of the book _ Tale of Tristan and Isolde _. Which by far is the oddest thing he has found in his journey with Harvey before he wondered where he even acquired it from.

| • • • • |

"Harvey."

"Dove?"

"Did you steal a book from a poor traveler for me?"

"I haven't the faintest of idea, dove."

| • • • • |

Billy chuckled as Mike, Johnny and Fisher went swimming. Harvey had been scowling with the attention Mike had been getting from the rest of his gang members.

"You're goin' soft Harvey."

"Shut your face!" 

| • • • • |

"What's this?"

"A rosary, Harvey." Mike rolled his eyes. "What did you think it was?"

"Careful with the tone boy." Harvey warned. "I can see that but why?"

"I'm sorry. I received it from a priest in the passing."

"Uhh," Harvey shuffled his feet before smiling half heartedly, "I ain't a believer son."

"You don't have wear it." Mike remedied. " Just keep it. Like a. . .like a reminder."

"For whatever dove?"

"Just." Mike thrusted it into his fist. "Keep it."

He left immediately almost as if ashamed. Harvey spent rest of the night looking at the wooden piece.

| • • • • |

"Why did you kill Mr. Tanner?"

And it was an unexpected question asked in the middle of their journey.

"Thought you weren't with him dove." His voice didn't show it but Mike knew he was narrowing his eyes as his hold over the reins tightened.

"Well, I'm not. But why did you?"

"He betrayed us. Killed one of my friends or two. Debt made, debt paid."

And Mike wondered how many debts had Harvey repaid that way.

| • • • • |

"No. Oh god you're going to step on my feet if you don't pay heed."

"Alright, that 'nuff." Harvey said, sitting down against the stable.

"What? Is this the mettle of great Harvey Specter?" Mike asked out of breath as he collapsed on the ground between Harvey's legs, resting his head on the outlaw's shoulder. Two bottles of whiskey left near them, forgotten, as Mike had suddenly requested Harvey to dance, it turns out that the latter would rather lead than be led. Of course, on Mike's request he made a compromise.

Harvey smiled wholeheartedly at the man in his arms, they enjoyed the nightly silence and distant hummings of flutes were heard, merry rejoiced in the air.

"Harvey,"

He hummed.

"What do you want to be remembered as?"

"To?"

"The world."

"I don' quite think I wan' be remembered."

"Ma used'ta say, careful what you do, Harvey, our tales live longer than our actions. My tales will be dried in blood. Ain't no man in his sense would wan' be 'membered as that."

Mike turned his head to study his face.

"Did the world ruin you Harvey?"

"Think it did to both of us."

He jerked slightly in question, "What do you mean?"

"Thought I never look'd did you? Might not have alotta book-learning but I know a broken man when I see one." He traced the outlines of Mike's hand that had been slightly quivering.

Mike was silent before he gripped Harvey's arm lightly.

"In the north, Harvey. My mind is what they need me for." He said staring off to what could be seen as far away. "My brother and his fiancee only do see me for me."

"They see beautiful then."

Mike laughed, "I don't think so, Harvey."

Harvey made a sound of disapproval, pulling Mike closer to himself, encompassing him in his arms.

"I know so."

"Bluffing."

"Now, now let me tell you. Harvey Specter doesn't lie. He may steal, he may kill but he don't lie."

Mike looked fairly amused as Harvey manoeuvred his head to a slightly to the right, to the skies that danced in the skies.

"Look there." He said pointing to the heavens that glimmered down at them, "You see those stars right up?"

"Mhmm."

A silent magic above waltzed in the sweet night air, misting them with invisibility for a moment. And the world lost sight of them.

"You are bewitching. Haven't you seen?" He smiled as Mike raised brow at the word. "The stars, dove, they _sing_ to me all time I see you."

He felt like he was sent somewhere deeper. No one had ever. Ever told him his breath meant more than his intellect. Harvey had brought him to an oblivion that saw him for what he was. Only Michael. Only Michael.

Mike said his eyes turned glassy because of the dust before he fell asleep on Harvey's shoulder.

And the fear had fallen away.

| • • • • |

So Billy had to sit down with a more or less sobered head and a glass of sherry which tasted ashen like in his mouth. Too Yankee for him if one would say. But he really had to sit down to understand.

Really understand where it had started.

He supposed it was when they step foot in Loma Parda. 

Oh the ladies were lovely, the men more so but those he kept to himself. Because that was what had begun it in the first place.

| • • • • |

Mike didn't like Loma Parda, not half as much as he would like the other towns they stayed at. Which by the way was lower than the worst places he had resided in New England. It was a drunk town with soldiers who had nothing to do taking up offers of women who had nothing else to offer. Dance halls and Saloons filled out plenty corners with bars bursting at the seams catering to a half drunk crowd busy in gambling.

Reason enough for Mike to stay locked in his room but when Johnny and Fisher insisted his company to a card game, he didn't think much of it. At least not enough to say no. Harvey was somewhere around with Billy, taking a drag because he certainly wasn't allowed to smoke in their room. The domesticity of it all hit Mike in between a certain bet made by Johnny and Fisher's complaints on his inability to catch a woman he had grown to fancy this particular evening. 

He had grown far too comfortable in the presence of men who he ought to despise. His attachment to Harvey now seemed dangerous, one that he had enjoyed the past few weeks or months. _ Or . . . _Mike didn't even recall what time of the year it was. He had been so engrossed and influenced by his company of an odd gang and their leader that he hadn't visited that lane of question.

Was anyone even coming for him ?

Or better yet, did he want anyone to come for him?

The latter made him abruptly rise from the corner where he'd been watching the game from. Johnny and Fisher snapped their gaze at him in questioning. He shook his head and gave a dismissive wave before heading to the bar and drowning a glass of whiskey. He would take another as the burning sensation in his throat would become dimmer. 

"Well, well, aren't you too pretty'ta be a man?" 

Mike head snapped to his right where he saw man too close for his liking, grinning at him with teeth blackened in dark sludge of tobacco. 

"Umm, excuse me sir, could you please maintain some distance? Thank you." Mike said in his ever courtesy tone which he knew at some point would get him more entangled in a problem than in it would get him out of one.

The man caged him to bar platform and before Mike knew it, he was struggling to push against him. "Get off me!" He said, jostling his wrists out of the man's hands.

"Such beauty wast'd." The man slurred before leaning in too close to his lips and Mike feared the worst that was about two seconds away from Mike feeling lightness, air to breathe and a sharp sound of glass shattering. The man stumbled, his hand touching the back of his head, revealing blood in it before he was pushed to the wall by Harvey.

"Keep your fuckin' hands off him." He snarled at the man with a temper he would've never wished Mike to ever witness. 

"Yuh alright boy?" Billy asked. "Didn't think the man would head out for you that-"

Mike had zoned out in favour of staring at another man who had aimed his gun towards Harvey, when he saw him cock it he kept into action. Wrapping his arms around Harvey as he pulled him back, the gunshot missed his head by an inch and before anyone could blink a gunfight had ensued.

It was the first time he wanted to hold a gun with the intention of killing, it was odd but Billy pushed him out of the way and back to the room. "If he can help it, he's not gon' wan' see you with a gun." 

"Then why would he teach me? Let me go back!"

"To protect yo self, boy. Not him. He would'a never wanted you to raise a gun on his name." Billy stated before shutting the door close.

It was a long time before that door opened again past midnight or so. No one was hurt not fatally at least but when Mike saw red on Harvey's arm, his mind grew thick and felt the numbing hit him harder than it should.

He remembered feeling that way once when Frank Joseph had been hurt that way, it had knocked him out of breath and he stayed by his bed crying all night. Of course the old man was fine by the morning light but that didn't mean it was any less traumatizing for Mike to witness.

And he swore he'd know how to heal a man than kill one.

Mike stared at what seemed to be a wound, he hadn't heard Harvey speak or ask him how he was doing before the man looked at him own arm to see what captured the northerner's attention.

"It's someone else's blood." He said removing his shirt. And it was. The blunt relief that engulfed Mike was far from soothing, it hadn't brushed away the possibility of something happening to Harvey in the near future. Was it worry? No. Mike could generally compartmentalize his emotions but this was Harvey. Things were never straight or simple with Harvey. It was something familiar to fear. Cold, agonizing fear. 

A cool touch behind his neck brought his attention back to the man in front of him. "Mike?" His cerulean blue eyes met the sight of line being formed on Harvey's forehead.

"Anythin' happened-"

-"may I please?"

Harvey raised an eyebrow at the unnamed request before nodding his head in affirmation.

Mike's hands lightly reached out to embrace Harvey, pressing his body upwards as his hand ran through the latter's hair. He closed his eyes and inhaled, reassuring himself a thousand times and again. "I thought. . .you . . I did not. . .I-"

-"shh. Don't need'a talk bout it." Harvey said, pulling his up as he wrapped his arms around Mike, rubbing in circles on his lower back.

It was a revelation. Funny sorts of epiphanies brought about by fear of something one can't control. Mike withdrew from their hug before he espied into those brown eyes in a way he had never seen previously. He looked back and forth from Harvey's gaze to his lips and he knew he was watching, he wanted Mike to make the first move.

It was a leap of faith. A shot in the dark. He leaned in closer, their noses almost touching before planting a chaste kiss and rested his forehead against Harvey's. They were breathing hard before Harvey's eyes opened and what it brought along with it. Passion and need. In its rawest.

"People don't belong to each other, Harvey." He said softly, "but if they did, I would belong to you and you to me."

That had been his last sentence and he barely completed it before Harvey's hands cupped his face, thumb sailing at the horizon of his lips before he claimed them in a deep kiss. His mind was in a mess and if he had an ounce of sense earlier, it had vanished and was replaced by endless voices saying, _ God this is all I really need _. Darkness engulfed him as he closed his eyes, knotting his fists in Harvey's jacket as he pushed against the man.

Harvey felt amazing. Having Mike in his arms willingly was all he had been waiting. He never prayed to a God in all his tainted life but when Mike moaned into his touch he was believer and this was his scripture.

Mike rode him twice that night and Harvey let him before he collapsed next to him, and Harvey's arms greeted him eagerly. He shared a glance with Mike who exhaled softly as the universe melted around them. Naked with hands entwined is how he would like to remember.

"You deserve better."

Mike's head shot up in questioning, he found Harvey's gaze at him almost like he was sorry.

"Deserve better'n a man like me."

"Why would you say that?" Mike asked, eyes in a mild chaotic puzzlement.

"Not 'nuff for you. You'd have been with a Yankee woman. Rich and respect'd."

Mike furrowed his brows, it was plainly beyond his grasp of understanding. He rubbed his nose lightly against Harvey's, foreheads touching with hands entangled. "Harvey, I would unquestioningly pick a gun up for you."

"I'd lay mine down laughin' for yuh."

He kissed the man beside him. Tears swept down in overwhelming desire to have and to hold. Harvey wiped them away everytime they would fall and Mike fell asleep with a heart weighing heavier than the deepest oceans. 

| • • • • |

Billy yawned as he stretched himself out the next afternoon. He really did sleep like a baby. The others weren't kidding about it. Well, damn that was a shame. He went down to find Harvey eating breakfast.

The fight really had exhausted them. They would've been out of Loma Parda long back in the morning had things gone a little differently. And Billy still wondered what would happen if they did.

"I'm hoping to settle."

Billy choked on his drink and coughed out violently.

"Jesus! Harvey you coulda waited till I finished the damned thing."

"I want him to be happy."

"He looks like it. Doesn't he?"

"I don't want him to travellin' for long. Too dangerous. Maybe California or San Francisco? Who knows."

"Fuck. You were serious?"

Harvey glared at him.

"No fuckin' shit."

"Well then. That's one thing but-"

Billy stopped mid-way cold.

"What? What is it?"

"Union soldiers." He stated lowly. Harvey's face hardened like steel. He narrowed his eyes eyes as the saloon began filling in with blue uniformed men and more. If Harvey had to bet his hat then it was most like about three squads of soldiers. Which indicated they meant business but he wasn't so sure when they positioned themselves pointing guns at specifically them.

"What did you do?" Billy asked him seriously while Harvey rolled his eyes.

"I haven't done shit." 

"Right."

He would've glared at Billy had they not been surrounded by numerous men with an intention to disarm or worse kill.

"Specter," a man addressed stepping out, "pleasant to see you again." It wasn't a greeting not with the amount of bite it had in itself.

"I'd say the same but the thing is I don't fuckin' know you."

"General Lenox, please." Another man sighed, he seemed a little more approachable though it seemed like the man had worked himself to death and pale brows. "Mr. Specter," he said with his tone clipped. "Could you please hand over your prisoner to us?" 

Billy felt a sinking trepidation.

"The hell are you talkin' about?"

General Lenox rolled his eye, "the man you stole from the carriage in Iowa, Specter. After killing Tanner that is. The sort of man whose company you aren't half worth for."

Billy looked towards Harvey, finding him giving the same stare he'd give a man who he was about about skin alive. He could figure twenty ways this could end and none of them looked desirable.

"Mr. Specter." Said the other man, almost sounded like a plea had his military form not suggested otherwise, "kindly return him to us. It's an order from DC."

"What's he to you?" Billy voiced out and General Lenox chuckled incredulously like a bad joke cracked.

"Brother!" A voice cried out and their gazes shifted to Mike standing mid-way through the stairs , clutching the bannister before he ran down straight into the arms of the unnamed man.

Mike had never thought that he'd walk into Trevor and nothing else separated him from embracing him. "Oh god Mike! I have you. Don't you worry. I have you. I almost thought you were dead." Trevor said, knocking the air out of him but Mike was awfully happy to care.

-"You take a man and you don't know who he is or dime of it?" The General had been ranting been ranting. "That man over there is Mike Ross, Mr. Favian. He belongs to the inner circle of the president. And to your knowledge Specter, he planned the Sharpsburg battle and paved the path to its victory."

Billy inwardly flinched, the man had a death wish. No other reason could explain why he was so intent on building a grave for himself. 

And if Trevor felt like warm relief, Lenox was a slap of reality across his face. Mike was afraid. Too afraid. He loosened his arms around Trevor as he looked at the military surrounding them. All their guns pointed towards Harvey and Billy. 

"Good. Now that we've all had a loving reunion. We need you back in DC, Mr. President wishes to see you at your earliest convenience."

There was no way they would leave here without him. The government required him or his brain , whichever way one saw it. President Grant was a good man, albeit a little less cunning or shrewd his position asked for. He would never see Harvey again.

They would never let him go again. And then north, the north wasn't friendly to men in love with each other , no one was. But revelations never hit Mike harder, for the moment all that would be necessary was to make sure that Harvey and his gang of outlaws to come out safely. They had been too quiet.

Harvey had been too quiet.

Mike was sorry his identity had been discovered this way but Mike knew of the consequences had they known. They would've killed him. Out of bitter rivalry or to honour their comrades who had been laid down by the war. Mike hadn't killed anyone, sure, but he had assisted in the killing of many. The blood of their deaths were on Mike's hands as much as it were on any other Union soldier.

He had betrayed him.

The best he could do is leave or at least afford a fighting chance for them to leave.

"Let's leave then. No use of wasting daylight. We need to be in Washington by our quickest."

"And what do you suppose we do of Specter? He still-"

"We leave them. Alone." Mike cut short.

Trevor gave an equally baffled look which synced with Lenox's bewilderment. He had known Mike for a long while and if anything Mike was a vindictive bastard. Forgiveness wasn't that common a trait in Mike. 

"Mike, he's an outlaw. We've finally caught him after so long. Kill two birds in a shot." General Lenox reasoned as Mike stole a glance towards them.

"That really isn't any of our concern. We have enough problems in the functioning of our system. We don't need the west to keep adding his weight. The crowd won't take to kindly to his death even if it's execution by trial." 

Mike wouldn't say it out loud but his word generally held substantial weightage. He had been the most intelligent the Union government had seen with a memory sharper than a bunch put together. So it was him thanking his reputation when he had slyly convinced Trevor and General Lenox to do so. Although both held their own share of suspicions, they stepped down.

"And what do you suggest we do?" General Lenox challenged.

"We let them go. This once ." Mike stated

Trevor exchanged gazes with General Lenox. Not the smartest idea but this was Mike, they tended to trust his judgement due to his reputation for being a military tactician, the brightest of his kind if he had one. 

" I need to speak to them for a moment."

"Mike-"

-"it's not on the table for deliberation." He added before marching towards Harvey and Billy. And the latter wondered if he should feel pity or anger at the boy. 

Mike couldn't afford a moment of weakness . Or a change in his face, too many people watching, he would've been on his knees begging for forgiveness. When he reached them Billy decided on pity. He knew Mike, knew him well enough to understand his reasons, however senseless or baseless.

But nothing scared him more than the blind crack in Harvey's expressions.

Mike had noticed it as well.

"I am sorry, Mr. Specter."

Harvey's eyes narrowed down at his apology that sounded chokingly formal.

He laughed, catching both Billy and Mike by surprise, "made a man's heart a bette'r place last night, find it that easy-"

-"no." Mike replied at once.

"Broken or not boy. I'm not lettin' you go. These soldiers can go to hell for all I care."

"Harvey," Mike looked up with all the strength he could muster, "you need to forget about me."

"I just said-"

-"I know. But. . .but"

"Harvey." Mike said softly, finding the edges of his voice creaking. "I can't be with you. All I can do now is grant you an unscathed escape from here. And after that I-I fear. . "

". .might not ev'r see eachother again eh?"

The grief in his words made Mike's heart bleed. It was never going to happen. Perhaps, another life, another way, another world they would but in this one the fog had lifted. He nodded as he bid them. 

"Whenever, wherever, I'll remember you with fondness,"

_ Even if we are seperated. With every single heartbeat _.

"And I hope that you find peace until then I pray that mercy saves you." 

_ Because my heart was sacrificed at the the altar of your religion to honor you. _

"May my thoughts find in its means to reach you. Farewell Mr. Specter ." He gave a slight bow to Billy, he hurried away from Harvey. A part of him would've always hoped Harvey had caught his hand, prevent him from leaving, something than a plain stared goodbye. But this was for the better. He resigned himself to this lonesome fate, his bed was made now he had to lie in it.

He didn't break down until he was inside the Stagecoach. Trevor tried but all he could do was offer his shoulder to the brother he had found only to find him lost to himself.

| • • • • |

They parted ways. 

Billy had last seen Mike on some Northern paper completely by accident and it had been several fortnights since Harvey had returned to Missouri to reunite with his brother who led a fairly quiet life in Clay county.

Billy on the other hand was merely traveling about with care not to accidentally fall in love with someone. He doubted that would ever be a war that he would survive.

He had tried not to wonder what happened to the two of them. But he was growing restless so were the boys, things weren't the same without Harvey. And for the good of the gang they disbanded. Johnny and Fisher went god-knows-where while most of them were scattered throughout Santa Fe and California. He met them every now and then, quite by accident.

Sooner or later Billy knew he'd drawn back to Missouri, if not by sheer restlessness then by the need of visiting an old friend.

| • • • • |

It was raining.

Mike's gaze stuck on one resilient raindrop that funnily defied gravity and refused to slide down the glass. He hadn't been paying attention. Not that much held his attention anymore. The raindrop still remained until it finally crush down.

"-Mike? Michael Ross?"

He snapped out of his trance.

"Yes?"

"Is everything alright?" President questioned.

Mike nodded before giving his inputs about their plan, the clauses and loopholes. He looked at his chains again as head his head leaned back again to the weather outside. When it was finally time to go, he shook his head enough to gain a sense of control on his realities. He stumbled out of the room before a hand grasped his arm, keeping him place.

"What is wrong with you?" 

General Lenox had been eyeing from the beginning of their meetings. Mike just grew worse and worse as they went by. He may have been a completely irksome man but even he to some extent cared about Mike. 

"Nothing that you should be bothered by." Mike snapped, yanking his arm away.

"You've been acting incongruously baffling since you returned from the West. What changed Michael?"

"Well, funny you sound like you hold concern."

"I do." He said plainly. "It may come off as a bewildering finding but I do care for the well being of a fellow consociate."

Mike looked at him through tired eyes before pulling away from him, "it's nothing."

General Lenox was left alone in corridor, he looked at the man and the way he had just gone. He had seen that pain before when delivering the bodies of his dead comrades to their wives or lovers after the war. It was a studiously distressing task and even for someone seemingly heartless like him, it did break a wall or two.

He made a mental note to discuss this with Trevor. 

| • • • • |

Dim.

Harvey stared at the sun far away now, he kept his bottle closer than life. An eye firmly engaged in blurred lines of the skies that drew over Missouri.

"Harvey." A long drawn voice called out before a figure appeared again. "I'll be needing help in the field-"

His voice abruptly stopped as he saw his brother. Marcus Specter was really at a loss, he wished he knew what brought about this in his brother. It really tore him apart to greet his brother this way when he opened the door one Saturday morning. He hadn't seen him for a good decade or more if he was counting so he was overjoyed to find him there. But days settled in and Katie told him there was something wrong with his brother.

Not like he hadn't noticed himself but Katie's blank admission pushed him to conclude so.

Harvey would mostly help out with work in the field, at mid-noon, he would be seen taking a drag on the porch or a glass of whiskey drowned. On days that were bad, it would be a bottle.

One night he said, "you remember Mark? When mama said Yankees were might sly?"

Marcus didn't but he nodded.

"Think she was right, wasn't she?"

He would wait for an explanation that never came but it was a surprise to him when days later, Harvey would read an extract from one of his books. He looked mighty smug about it and Marcus had a childish urge to wipe that smirk off his face but they were too old to settle by fighting fists.

"Where'd you learn to read and write?"

"Was taught by someone."

"Who?"

"A northerner."

Marcus nodded because he knew better than to ask further. He knew enough about love to abstain from acting on instincts and he launched himself in a deep thought questioning who could have it been, ripped his darling brother's heart out with no clear intention to return it.

He would've liked to meet them

And then put a bullet through his head perhaps. He wasn't brutish but he wouldn't go soft in someone who broke family.

His eyes drifted past the window and he felt an edgy wave wash over him because Marcus could swear that he saw bush move outside and it wasn't even windy tonight.

| • • • • |

Mike was in his room when Trevor walked in. Of course without knocking.

"Do you wish to live in darkness or something?" He joked half hearted as he pushed the curtains to the side and allowed the sunlight to sink in.

"Trevor, what day is it?"

"The seventh, Mike. Have you lost count of day?" Trevor asked still focused on adjusting the curtain.

"Trevor." His voice reached him in a faint whisper, he hummed in response.

"I don't remember. I don't remember the day we met."

And Trevor froze. Mike had an excellent memory, at least it was long enough to remember all the embarrassing moments of their childhood (the day Trevor asked Jenny to marry him when he was nine? Yes. The time he stole chocolates under Mike's pillow on his thirteenth birthday? Definitely) from the day they met to yesterday's daily newspaper. It was all cut out and stacked in his head. 

So when Mike said that Trevor spun in action anxiously before he was taken aback by the hollow figure, sitting on the floor resting against the side of the bed.

General Lenox had told him but he hadn't thought of it as this consuming. Somewhere he knew Mike was mostly capable of moving on without remembering that bloke from the West. It had been outrageous, the north would never accept Mike and it was kept and guarded as a clandestine affair would be. 

But He was wrong. If there was one thing he had forgotten it would be that Mike was human as well. And humans don't always grief at the loss of love.

Sometimes, they fade away as well.

With no other way through, he sent for Uncle Frank in Rhode Island.

| • • • • |

Harvey stared at the ceiling, empty and vacant as it was but he had no hope to touch it. He wished for another glass but he knew the limit and tonight wasn't the night he would cross it. He tried it, give himself away to the imagination of starlit skies, cackling fires and the deserts.

And Mike.

It was sickening how low he had fallen for the affections of some Yankee. His paw would be ashamed and his mama would look at him in pity. But they would cradle his sorrow and blow it away. He had a vigorous pain that quelled that beat against his head.

And he hoped everything was a dream.

Because it didn't do to touch paradise and forget how it felt.

Mike was paradise. And Harvey with his heart or the remains of it, wished he had never stepped on that godforsaken train.

"Harvey?"

He didn't even try wiping away the tears as they bled in throes of misery. 

"Mighty sad for you should see yo' older brother this way, Mark."

"Harvey. The war changed you but it didn't break you this far."

"Didn't it?"

"What happened?"

"I'm tired."

"Why? What are you so afraid? What are you trying to forget?"

Harvey's eyes closed, "No rest in this world." He bitterly remarked.

Silence filled the air between them and Marcus waited because this was his brother, his patience would stretch far beyond to help whatever it was he was suffering.

"I loved, Mark. . .a man. A northern man."

Marcus knew his brother's interests in men and that honestly was the least of his problems or concerns for that matter.

"When I leant'a write. I wrote his name first. Michael. Michael. Michael."

"And?"

"And I let him go."

"Why?"

"Because we can't."

And perhaps anything else would've been better than that. Marcus cradled him in his arms, though he knew no force or God could make his brother feel alright. And if that didn't break his own heart then the rosary clutched in Harvey's hand did.

| • • • • |

Harvey woke up in his room in the early hours of the morning sun. 

He felt a cold wrap him before he lifted off to his feet and walked to the window to gain some action in it. His head was aching as he cracked his joints that felt so trapping. 

It was misty, making him wonder how early it really was. His eyes went over to the fields and to the small farm house where a tiny stable sheltered his horse, falcon. Returning his gaze the same way it came, he saw a flash of a pale figure through the haze and Harvey's eyes widened in hope.

_ Was it. . . _

He walked out of his room and past the hallway before he opened the front door leading to the porch. He went to the side of it to see if what he saw in the fields was truly there or that he was finally losing his mind. 

There was no one but a wild swift of wind from the bushes across.

His shoulders loosened in lost hope, he dragged his feet to the front of the porch and he felt the absence of the circlet around his hand which had fallen off by the corner. Harvey turned to pick it up and as he did, he fell back immediately, shoulders to the outside wall now stained with blood and a voice reached him in the mayhem of it all.

> _ People don't belong to each other, Harvey _.

Gunshots came at him like winter hail. They missed terribly but one aim did not. The one straight into his chest claimed his raw beating heart.

> _ But if they did, I'd belong to you and. . . _

". . I to you." He coughed out as he heard Marcus snatch out of his bed and down the stairs in heavy footsteps.

"Harvey!" Marcus shouted at the top of his voice as the shots rang out and the men evaded. Harvey's eyes were blankly open, his last breaths still intact as his brother held him to chest. 

Was that death? Was that how it felt like? His body grew light as it had when he was a babe. Memories flooded past his sight, the fire, his parents staring at him in adoration, Marcus looking up to him and worry consuming him when Harvey said he would fight in the war, the brutality, the defeat, the years of suffering that came after it. 

Then Mike, lovely and alight, joy and he got close and there was love and there was a moment of rest, a satisfaction of peace.

The torment of the separation. And the regret that mercy couldn't save him after all, Harvey's soul had been dealt to the devil. There was never saving for him but one moment with Mike. Only one would have been enough.

The light in the end of the tunnel and there was someone there.

"Michael." He breathe out in relief, the coy smile gave him away.

And Harvey went limp in Marcus' arms. 

_ On the seventeenth, Harvey Specter, 43, was murdered by a firearm. The man who carried out the assassination was a hired hitman by the Pinkerton's. The murder was an act of vengeance resulted by the killing of Pinkerton's infamous operator, Travis Tanner. _

| • • • • |

He shot up from his bed in Serafina Villa in Rhode Island in foreboding. The sudden movement irked his muscles but Mike gave little heed to that. He had fallen asleep reading the _ Tale of Tristan and Isolde _. He had chuckled irony, that story ends in tragedy and wondered if it was a mystery that of all books Harvey could have given him.

It ought to be this one.

His linen night shirt felt particularly chilly as he walked outside, in the balcony where he had a lovely garden. He clutched the book closer to him as he did.

A strong wind blew past him as he walked around it. The foggy morning offered him nothing but cold and that was fine by Mike, he would have found it unfair had it been warm to him. He didn't deserve warmth.

He had robbed Harvey from warmth. Betrayed and left the only man who loved him and had been returned of it. They never said those words. Mike hadn't even written endless poetry for him. Mike wondered sometimes what would happen if he ran away with Harvey that day? If something, somehow happened that afternoon in Loma Parda?

But he knew the answer to well. They would have a bounty hanging on Harvey's head, it wouldn't just be the Union trying to hunt them down, it would be every American with a greed for money. Sooner or later, Harvey would wind up hurt or worse, dead. It had taken him more than just practicality and sanity to listen to his head over heart. He would not risk Harvey.

Yet he may have left the man hardly living the moment he stepped into that stage coach.

Guilt tightened his chest but separation from Harvey made him fall to his knees dropping the book at his side. The sound of chains followed with vigilance. Mike looked around to witness his hands in shackles connected in chains.

He had always been chained.

And Harvey saw them. He couldn't free Mike from them but he showed him the world around. How rare and beautiful it could be if Mike allowed it. Harvey had always treated Mike with care, like he mattered, not only for the value of his thoughts but because he was simply just Mike Ross. In spite being a man who was a traitor, Harvey found him fit to give his heart.

A man like him.

Harvey deserved so much more than he could ever offer. 

And Mike found it curious,

Would his thoughts find in its means to reach him?

Would Harvey know of the ache in his chest and anguish in his bones? Would he feel it too?

Jenny had once warned him, _ if anything can defeat a man of your calibre _ , _Mike_. _ Love. It would certainly be love. _

He had laughed at her face as a reply.

He remembered,

> _The stars, dove, they sing to me all time I see you_.

Tears swept across his cheek. The whole world burnt down to ashes in front him. His steeled fetters enclosed his hand as he cried out loud. 

Broken, broken.

A day and a week and a month screamed to him of their separation and he screamed in his misery, he was helpless.

His chains prevented him but he tried his hardest for them to snap. Thunder roared in the skies and lightning wept. And when he felt a strange light, Mike couldn't breathe.

"Michael." The air around him resounded as his eyes lift up to the heavens. 

Harvey. Harvey was calling for him. He would go. Harvey was calling for him.

He stopped struggling against the metal and simply went still before he closed his eyes in hope when they open, it would be Harvey's eyes they would first glance into.

Before the first drop of rain hit the ground, Mike fell against the ground to his side, his fingers touching the side of the book in tattered conditions. And his body was left cold as the rain engulfed him in its gentle cascade.

"Harvey."

His heart had stopped beating long before they found him as his thumb adorned with the signet ring almost touched the book.

| • • • • |

Billy sipped on his glass of Sherry. Still too fancy for him but it worked its alcoholic charm as he stared out the window. He had come to know of Harvey's death days before he would arrive at Missouri. He took his hat and held a moment of silence.

He was angry at first. And his rage caused him to travel to Washington DC to give Mike Ross a piece of his mind. It was silly and a dangerous thing to do but Harvey was too close to not do something reckless of it. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't.

And imagine his blunt surprise when he finds himself greeted by General Lenox's statement, "He's gone."

"What'dya mean?"

"Dead. I mean he is dead. The art of subtlety escapes you, doesn't it?"

He didn't have time for arrogant Yankees and said he'd leave right away but was shortly stopped by Trevor Evans, the man Mike had called a brother. He was offered a drink and while he cursed himself in his head, God knows he needed one rather desperately.

"Mike died two weeks ago. Early in the morning of the seventeenth. Out of a sudden chest pain." Trevor said as the three men gathered in his cabin.

"Meaning-" General Lenox supplied in a tint of condescension.

-"I know what it means." It worked its magic as Billy outrightly glared at him.

"Funny that." He said keeping the glass down as he lit his cigarette upon a permissive wave from Trevor.

"Why?" Trevor asked.

"Nothin' could kill ol' Harvey. Heard he got shot twice or thrice but nothin' more deadly than the bullet that plucked it thru' his heart."

Trevor turned his head and let a small sigh run him through.

"Yo fancy book-learning had a name for people like 'em?"

General Lenox looked at him, before clearing his throat, "Star-crossed. Star-crossed lovers."

Billy gazed at him thoughtfully, almost making him shift his feet uncomfortably. 

"That so."

He wistfully looked out the window again and somehow he knew.

_Maybe not in this life but another, Harvey_.

And the thought that Mike and Harvey met in the clouds, grinning down at him soothed him as the skies grew a bright blue to him.

_ In another for sure. _

The End.


End file.
